Disabled Clockwork
by AnomalousWriter
Summary: Captain Jack Sparrow steals a sacred pocket watch from an old friend. The device unexpectedly throws him into the future. No sooner or later, he is taken to P.P.T.H. Hospital in critical condition. Leaving Dr. Gregory House to solve his case. – M/M
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I'm fixing things up. I'm putting the prologue into chapter 1. No worries. More chapters are in progress.**

**DISABLED CLOCKWORK**

**CHAPTER 1**

**THE PAST**

In the hands of their duelers, swords clinked and slashed aggressively at each other. Shifting aback from his rival, Captain Jack Sparrow graced along the dirt sternly. His enemy being challenged at every sharp strike he took.

"Give it up Sparrow, you don't have a chance!" The enemy shouted.

"You should know by now that I will never agree with you, Harold!" He huskily yelled back. Dodging yet another slash, he ran speedily across the open land. Harold ran after him with a wheezing breath.

Turning a corner after of trees, he took a leap across a deep ditch. Missing balance from the leap, he groaned worriedly while gaining his balance back. Near on his heel, Harold came running through the forest. Scraping across a rock, Jan ran onward.

Harold growled angrily. "Give me back that pocket watch, Sparrow!"

"Not a chance mate!" Jack replied from a distance.

Grasping the item nudged, in his pocket, suddenly started to burn. Without warning he stopped in his tracks. Bending over from the sudden pain. Repeating Jack's actions, Harold's eyes became widened to the socket as Jack's body frame began to glow.

"Jack! What have you done?" He screamed. Pacing his way as fast as his legs could carry him, Harold came too late as Jack's entire being disappeared in a bright flash of blue light.

An airy silence gulped the forest as Harold breathed a gasp. "W-what will I tell the others?" He asked himself, along with the trees. Not an answer in sight as the tree's leaves stood still.

* * *

**THE PRESENT**

Drilling a hole in the ground with a power tool, a construction worker vibrated along with the tool as chunks of the ground cracked open across the sidewalk. The skies became dark as a bright light came across the sky. Some people on the streets, to in their vehicles looked up to investigate. Harshly ripping through the clouds shot down Captain Jack Sparrow's unconscious body. Seeing the image before them, some only looked on in astonishment as others screamed in horror.

* * *

**THE HOSPITAL**

"Perhaps the patient is bipolar," Dr. House advised. His feet resting atop of the glass table.

Dr. Foreman shook his head, deceiving the mere idea. "Then the patient's Myelin would be white. This is somehow a light pink." He sung with pure disapproval.

"Well then perhaps the case is of how the nervous system is taking no intake on the medication would show signs of Bipolar." Dr. Hadley reasoned.

"Diagnosis are still unsure. How exactly would-" Dr. Kutner trailed. Looking outside the window, his eyes squinted.

"Well what would that be?" Dr. House impatiently questioned. Encouraging him to continued with the nudge of his foot.

"What is that?" He asked in horror. All turning in their seats, while Dr. Hadley stood to see. Everyone became baffled to what they sighted as a motionless body fell from the sky and aimed straight through the wooden frames of a construction building. Smoke filled the air from followed suit.

"Foreman?" Dr. House brought to his attention.

"Yes, House?" The doctor questioned back. Each other doctor still looking on in shock.

"Go tell the nurses and the emergency room to prepare for this patient." He stated. Out of his seat, the chair screeched in the process as Dr. Foreman rushed from the room.

* * *

**THE CONSTRUCTION SITE**

Coughs and shouts waved across the dusty smoke. One construction worker, foolishly tried walking through it. When suddenly he stepped on a hand. Looking downwards, it was only clear enough to see a tattooed wrist of a sparrow. Looking up towards the damage of the frames and back to the body he knelled down looking more closely at the person. He appeared to not be breathing. To be sure of himself, he rested his ear to the heart. Sighing in relief seconds later.

"Hey guys, this dude's alive!" The young man yelled. In sudden reply other employees rushed to his side. Some repeated his actions as they looked down. Standing near the damaged frames above.

"Where do you think he came from?" A man with a husky voice questioned.

Another man replied with a scoff. "It's obvious he came falling from the sky!"

"Maybe it was a plane." One man on the second level guessed. Crouching to his knees as he grasped his hand around the still intact frame.

"Out of my way, move it!" A large man yelled. Wearing a white helmet atop of a sun hat. Looking down his eyebrows raised in surprise, causing his multicolored sunglasses to drop slightly from his nose bridge.

"Robert, who is this guy?"

"I don't know sir," The young man replied.

"Well check his wallet or something! This guy must have some sort of identity!" He spat.

Following along with what the older man ordered, he turned the unconscious man onto the side. He suddenly yelped as blood began to pour from the man's back. Frighteningly he took his hold off the man to back up, startled. Causing the man's sleeping form to fall back with a thud.

"Call an ambulance!" The large man yelled.

* * *

**2 MONTHS LATER**

In the hospital hall closest to the staff room Dr. House leaned on his cane as he walked the distance. His clothes were maladjusted. Ever since late last night. Deciding it best to have only four hours of sleep before the next day's work. But now he regrets that mistake terribly as he stretches a weak grasp onto the handle's door to the staff room. Even more disastrous was the presence of his colleagues. All complimenting his appearance with a frown as now all were brought out of their distractions from their paperwork.

"House, did you sleep at all last night?" Dr. Foreman forwarded his brows.

"No," Dr. House coldly replied with a exasperated sigh. "The sand man left apparently," He informed them all while hanging up his leather jacket. "To make it even worse, he left a note saying that he has no further business with me anymore." The doctor grumbled while pulling out a chair. Next he rested his cane on the table to his right. Dr. House sat down roughly into his seat. Eying each doctor silently in the process.

"House, you could have just stayed home." Dr. Hadley reasoned. Fiddling with a pencil between her fingers.

"I was home," Dr. house protested. Shaking his head.

"As in we saw the fridge door open this morning." She informed.

The diagnosis's reply was a nudge of his shoulders. Followed by another shake of his head and a frown. "So?"

"You always leave it open when you work through the night," Dr. Kutner explained. Hovering his pencil with a helicopter effect that showed his impatience.

"Alright people!" Dr. House yelled. Each doctor responded in their own way from the volume of his bellowing voice.

"Let's get today done smoothly!" Glaring at each employee.

"You all know too much for your own good!" His voice suddenly dying down from the high volume.

"Now," He refreshed himself. Placing his legs on the table.

"How much do we know about the-hobo-from-the-sky?" With widened eyes he raised his eyebrows and smacked his lips soundlessly in mockery.

"All we know," Dr. Taub began. Looking over his notepad filled with notes for the diagnosing. "Is researching medical records with his DNA sample failed to show any records from within this city _and _state."

"More like global believe it or not," Dr. Hadley revised. Her only response from Dr. House was of a tired swish of his hand. Gesturing to toss that to the side.

"With the states," Dr. Foreman began. Making the same action with his paperwork like with what Dr. Taub did with his moments ago. "Out of the three from the fifty one states we have contacted so far, none of the districts have any records of the patient either. If we are on top of it, we can seek the information from each state as little as under one month."

Dr. House nodded. "What about his belongings?" Forwarding his brows in deep thought.

"Crime Lab tests came back with less then we all thought. Apparently the swords, pocket watch, and the clothes had possible links to only being a couple years old instead of centuries." Dr. Chase informed.

"There's still something that sets off," Dr. House said halfway through to himself and the doctors. "What else?" He asked.

"One of the nurses noticed some serious scars while changing." Dr. Kutner mentioned.

"How serious?" Dr. House slightly squinted.

"Big ones," Dr. Kutner gestured the size with his own hands. "It's amazing the man survived 3 bullet wounds to the chest."

"_Three?__" _Dr. House asked. So astounded he leaned off the table in shock.

"From all we know, this man could be a criminal in another country." Dr. Chase proclaimed.

"Of the last and least questions so far, how come there was no para shoot found from the fall?" Dr. House grumbled. Placing a hand under his chin in thought.

"The construction employees only saw the enormous gash on his back start to gush blood. No one payed attention to if there was a para shoot till after he came into the E.R. He might of just lost it during the fall before he fell through the wooden frames" Dr. Cameron suggested.

"So no cuts, no bruises, no broken bones, just the gash?" Dr. Hadley asked. Trying to make sure it was all they could gather up.

"What if the cause of the gash-" Suddenly Dr. House was interrupted by a running Dr. Wilson nearing the glass door. He next swung the door open hurriedly out of breath.

"House, Doctors," Dr. Wilson gasped for air as he leaned on the door frame.

Dr. House could only turn in his seat to face the doctor in irritation. "What is it Wilson?" He impatiently asked.

"He was nick named the sky patient, correct?" Dr. Wilson breathlessly asked. Receiving only nods except one from Dr. House.

"Well he's now Hobo From The Sky. But that works too." Dr. House complied. Dr. Wilson could only look at the corner of his eye to try and ignore it.

"The patient is awake," He breathed.

"Good! Then why did you run all the way here?" Dr. House asked.

"He went through what might have been likely a cardiac arrest." Dr. Wilson gasped a reply. "But he started to shout and we can't get him to stop." Immediately after he said his sentence, all but one doctor in the room got up from their chairs. Some chairs even screeching against the floor. With the door opened wide enough already, Dr. Wilson held it open for all the doctors to run out. He and Dr. House were the only ones left till Dr. Wilson himself began to run after them to catch up.

Dr. House was left alone sitting there. Twisting his lips in thought he groggily got up from his seat while grabbing his cane. "This day just keeps getting better and better." He sarcastically mumbled to himself.

* * *

Dr. House had began walking with his limp as fast as he could with the other doctors already at the end of the hall. He knew the patent's room was just at the end of this hall way, but he couldn't help the frustrated sigh that passed his lips for that miss filled gift. How he would give anything just to walk again. If he hadn't taken himself for granted before hand, he wouldn't have to be in this situation with this cane. It did grow accustom to him. Gave him an identity no other doctor had. But it made him feel more angrier with each step he took the first year with it. There was no excuse to say that it was a phase anymore.

But it never stopped him with a trip to wonderment. Was there still a way to fix it all? A method that could come out of no where and work magically for him. It was likely the case for this new patient. The first time he saw him fall from the sky, there was this feeling that told him everything was about to change. A type of change that no one could ever second guess about. Edging deeper and deeper into his skin till suddenly it was trying to fill this void that he realized was desperately needing to be filled. Like starvation with no end in sight. Food would not seem important anymore since the pain was the stomach's nutrition. Making it impossible for you to ever eat again without wondering if it was only going to torture you more.

He had not fully met the patient just of yet. Since he was in a coma for the past month, there was nothing he could really do. Not even with scans or examination could acquire time. For as if on queue, other patients of his were in more need then obviously the sleeping man's own. Day after day, he would seek any time he could, but even those days felt longer. Mostly for the fact that he too had 'sleep issues'. From what he said just a few moments ago, felt correct. That the sand man had no time to deal with his overly functioning thoughts. He couldn't blame the little fairy man or what ever his appearance was explained as in folk tales. He himself was literally tired of his mind just never sitting down from its delusional race.

Though there couldn't be a rest. It was bad enough to try and keep the media off their backs. Security had increased just to be sure that no one was risking anything. Just the day after they took in this sky patient, reporters from around the United States to even across the globe nudged their microphones into the doctors faces so cruelly he could of sworn was an attempt to just get the microphones to his brain. Try as they might, he was kind of glad that the man was sleeping for this long. That way they could cower back to their studio caves.

As he drawled nearer to the room, he could hear from just where he walked was a hoarse chain of shouts. Apparent of an English Male voice. He frankly sounded tired and scared. No doubt from the chaos he has been through. But wait a second. Stopping in mid step, he stood there to rethink. How could he read something just like that? He had never taken any classes or any education alike to know how a person is feeling by just their usage of vocals. Perhaps this whole sleep thing was really just getting to his head.

Walking through the door frame, the room could have been compared to an asylum rehab center. Each nurse in this building looked to have ran over here. All were desperately trying to calm the man down. Dr. Wilson, and all the others were apparently standing closest to the bed, looking to be unoccupied. The man must of jumped out of his bed from shock to where he was. Dr. House frowned deeply, limping more into the room. It was going to take only himself to stop this commotion.

"THAT'S ENOUGH!" Dr. House shouted as loud as his lungs allowed. Stomping his cane twice to make sure he had every employee's attention. Including the patient, each person in the room fell silent.

"Back off, back off!" He yelled. Making his way through the crowd.

His focus was suddenly erupted the moment he sighted the man. Huddled in the corner of the room, the first thing he saw was the man's widened eyes. They were as black as the night's sky. His hair similar but of obvious brunette dread locks. Around his face were trinkets and beads braided into the locks with a pale forehead. From his tan there must of recently been a bandanna sitting there. Since he only wore a hospital scrub and boxers specifically bought for him, Dr. House could tell by just standing this far away from the other man there was obvious shivering raking down his entire frame. No doubt from the coldness of the hospital room and floor.

"Are you cold?" He asked automatically.

The man's only reply was a glint in each eye. In his opinion, it was indeed a yes. But as is it was there it quickly vanished. Causing those brown depths to look even more mysterious. Stepping forward to only adjust his cane made a false reading to the patient.

"Stay away from me!" He screeched. Backing up into the wall. Fear gushing from his entire being.

Surprising the patient, he took a step back. Giving the indication that he meant no harm. Which was the truth. He only wanted to help the man at this point. There was a long pause till Dr. house looked a bit more closer to the man's physical appearance. The patient could tell he was obviously studying him. Dr. House knew he was allowing it because the patient was staring at him with strict but calm ease.

"All you doctors here, go back to the drawing room. The rest of you nurses, leave the room now."

Dr. Cuddy apparently in the room was the only person who walked over to him instead of leaving of the room. "House, do you realize..." The Diagnosis was able to cut her sentence short by only a dark glare. Catching the hint much more early then she did, the other doctors were quietly going back to the drawing room.

"Cuddy, I understand your potentials," He replied.

"Oh yeah right, since when?" She asked. Placing her hands on her hips.

"Since never, I made it up." Dr. House sarcastically said.

"You're being ridiculous," She glared.

"Cuddy, clearly, the patient is in need of a settle environment. I just need to ask a couple of questions and then you can..."

"No House," She interrupted. "I won't allow it,"

"It's a wanton for him! At least let me handle it." He replied.

"How do you know for certain, House?" Dr. Cuddy suspiciously asked. Folding her arms across her shoulders.

"Can't you tell?' Dr. House asked. Turning around to look back at him, then back at her as an example for Dr. Cuddy to seek his reasoning. "The man has amnesia. Obviously it's why he freaked out when everyone was on him like a mad scientist."

Raising an eyebrow in insult, Dr. Cuddy glared at him. Still not getting the picture.

"Don't bitter me woman. I will explain later, now out." He demanded. Dr. House pointed his cane in the direction of the door for her as an exaggerated example. Frustratingly, she did what she was told. With the door shut behind herself, Dr. House turned his attention back to the man huddled in the corner of the room. Looking to have been listening to every single word said. He shrunk in fear momentarily for the fact that he realized by now he was being stared at with both of them the only occupants in the room.

"So," Dr. House sighed. Reading how the man's body language had drastically changed. "Why don't we start by you telling me your name?" The doctor eyed him. The patient's response was on the side of unpleasant. Turning his head away towards the wall, a scowl of disgust was nuzzled to the wallpaper. Scrapes and swishes came from the patient's movements.

Another sigh escaped Dr. House's lips. He was usually not distress over something like this from a patient. He possibly had to take better precautions as the patient didn't make matters better. There in his eyes was the change edging more up inch by inch from his eyes.

"Alright...Perhaps some other time," He said. Trying to suppress a cocky remark that possibly could have followed. The patient clearly reading his every move.

"Because of the a coma," Dr. House began. "For the past four to five weeks we have been examining your health." He limped across the room. "For instance, today," He chimed. Tapping the calendar on the the nearest wall with the heel of his cane. "Is July 10th, 2009. Before today..."

"What?" The patient shouted. Interrupting Dr. House's sentence. Immediately he turned to sight those dark eyes blazing with absolute shock and fear. With no warning the patient had gotten up from the tile so quickly that Dr. House had only time to respond to his hands gripping his shirt's collar in desperation.

"PLEASE DON'T TELL ME YOU JUST SAID 2009!"

"Let go of me!" Dr. House squirmed.

"Don't you fool me!" The patient roared.

Idiocy had gotten the best of Dr. House as he unexpectedly swung his cane in the back of the man's neck. His unconscious body collapsing right into the doctor's arms. He stood awkwardly. Having no choice but to position the man more closer to him in order to keep him from falling. Suddenly the door was swung open by Dr. James Wilson. Dr. House had only time to turn his head as best as he could to see Dr. Wilson's eyebrows raised in surprise.

"House," He exclaimed. Appalled to what he just walked into. "What did you do?"

"Why are you here?" Dr. House grunted. Avoiding the man's own question. "I told you to leave," He complied. The patient almost slipping from his arms. "I can handle this myself." He repeated a grunt. Grabbing the patient's shoulders, he shoved and dropped the sleeping form onto the mattress crookedly.

"I heard shouting, and...Why on earth is he unconscious?" Dr. Wilson asked in his bewildered state. Closing the door quickly behind him, he began running to the bedside. Scooping up the patient's arms just enough so he could have him lying properly onto the mattress.

"The man was assaulting me," Dr. House explained. Watching Dr. Wilson try to save the man's unconscious body from a bad neck ache. "So I knocked him out," He stated. Exhausted. As he dropped his gaze to the floor. Truthfully he was worried that he did something wrong.

Dr. Wilson scoffed in disbelief. "What is wrong with you?"

Shooting his head back up from the comment, Dr. House could only look at Dr. Wilson in mild hurt. "There's nothing wrong with me. It was merely self defense."

"Oh, okay. So instead of calling for help you hit him in the back of his head?" Dr. Wilson raised an eyebrow.

"The topic is resented!" Dr. House exclaimed. Trying to ignore the subject. "Let it die. The man is still alright," He tried to reason. Looking in the direction of the bed to see if his lie was true.

Dr. Wilson sighed.

"What?" Dr. House replied. His brows forwarding.

Dr. Wilson looked down and back up again. "I just expect more tolerance in you is all." Dr. Wilson replied. Leaning on his cane, Dr. House looked at his only friend with a delayed reaction to what he said.

"Alright," Dr. House responded. Pointing in the direction to the patient. "So I am too distraught to help this patient, is that it?" His frustration effecting his voice.

Dr. Wilson looked down again. This time he placed his hands inside his pockets. He stepped the small distance from Dr. House to stand by him by only a foot. The time he looked again was the same amount of time it took him to sigh sympathetically.

"You need to rest," Dr. Wilson advised. Resting a hand on the diagnosis's shoulder. "It's the honest truth." He continued. "I think your..senses. Have caviled from exhaustion. So you are not even able to work properly."

Dr. House scoffed. Turning his head to look at the patient. "If you are this certain," Dr. House replied. "Then what does it mean when I reconsider what you are saying is right for once?"

Dr. Wilson looked to the ceiling in thought. "Then maybe you are completely insane at that point."

Dr. House hissed. "Precisely my point,"

"So you won't agree with me?" Dr. Wilson raised a brow.

"Bingo!" Dr. House sighed.

Taking the hint, Dr. Wilson gave up on coming up with another answer. He took his hand off of his friend's shoulder and began to walk over to the door again.

"James," Dr. House called back. Dr. Wilson was all ears once he turned around.

"If I do become insane over this patient." Dr. House paused. "You are welcome to kidnap me." The Oncology Doctor could only grin. Finally opening the door as it automatically closed behind him.

Dr. House looked at the the door long enough to turn his attention back to the patient. Uncertain of what was suppose to happen next, he could only scratch the top of his head.

"Now the question is," He said to the unconscious patient with a frown. "When will you wake up again." His frown deepened at the thought.

* * *

**2 DAYS LATER**

"It's impossible for the a coma to involve the patient's wounds." Groaned an angry voice.

"Then why did you give the patient Mirapex? It's only going to put him back to sleep." Another mildly wined. Seeming to be talking to the other angry voice.

"The Mirapex treats pain," Apparent of a man, his voice indicating that it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"For what?" The other man asked. Both voices seeming to become more clearer to his ears.

"The karate chop move to his neck!" He frustratingly said.

"Out of the way please," A female voice chimed in. A rolling cart of some sort following the sound of her footsteps.

"Obviously he's going to wake up with a neck ache." The man pointed out.

"_Where am I?"_ Jack thought to himself. He was still trying to resist opening his eyes. Fear of the exact moment where they would notice them open. His own thoughts were interrupted by a small but strong tug to his navel. Realization hit that there was a tube of some sort lodged around his navel. A flow of liquid soon began to pass through this tube and straight to his stomach.

"_Now that's not right," _The pirate thought. Now utterly confused to what the hell was going on. He began to feel a sudden chill engulf his skin. Indicating something was indeed not right.

"_Why am I so cold?" _He emotionally frowned.

"I need you to go back and get his belongings," The man with the lower voice said. Followed by a rippling sound. Similar to a scroll. "Give them this contract and they will let you in."

"Why am I suppose to do this?" The other man asked. Confusion coming from his voice.

"Because I need to watch him while you go get it?"

"I'm not leaving you with him!" The man exclaimed.

"Oh come off it! I won't do anything! Besides, I think that pocket watch has something to do with..."

"_The watch!" _Jack exclaimed in his mind. Warning signs going off through his entire senses. Before he could even stop himself there was a rumble growing in his stomach and throat.

"HAROLD, YOU LYING BASTARD!" Jack growled. Apparently he had sat up from the impact of his anger. He only began to realize that people were indeed in the same room till the thing similar to a scroll was dropped from the man's hand. While the woman in front of him leaped away from the bed. Each pair of eyes that were not his own had widened in surprise.

Suddenly there was a piercing pain shooting through his head. With a groan he fell back against the pillow. Just in time to see the woman rushing to his aid. Apparently she was some doctor of some sort. Engulfed in dizziness, he looked up towards the sealing.

"So you're finally awake!" The louder man coldly exclaimed. "That took at least," The man trailed. Looking at his wrist with what appeared to be a small clock surrounded by fine material. "Oh I don't know. Four days?" The man was obviously doing this in mockery. But Jack payed no mind to it. At least literally.

"W-What-Where am I?" He groggily asked. Fear had began to rise again as he began to register his surroundings more.

"You are in the most finest buildings." The man mocked again. "Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital in New Jersey. My name is..."

"What in the hell is a New Jersey's hospital?" Jack interrupted. The man who had mocked him was standing with what looked like an extremely fancy cane. His response to the interruption was the forwarding of his brows. Next to him, the man chuckled nervously.

"You're joking right?" The other man asked.

Everyone but Jack looked at him as if it were the most easiest thing to know. But with the silent treatment the man received, he cleared his throat and tried to rephrase what he just said.

"I mean, you really don't know?" The man asked politely.

"No," Jack replied. "Should I?"

The two men and woman in front of Jack could only look at him in wonderment. One of the men was wearing some sort of small black drape tied around his neck. While wearing the most finest light blue he had ever seen in a button down blouse. He also wore black pants, black shoes. Which notably shined more then the Navy's own.

The woman was not very interesting in her appearance. But little shapes of what appeared to be flowers and ducks scattered across her blouse and pants. Her shoes looked like very tough leather. Remarkably of white. It brought him more and more into curiosity. He next sought his eyes on the taller man's own shoes. They were the same material but dirty and gray.

Jack couldn't help but notice that the man kept staring at him. He was holding what appeared to be a cane made of what looked like very black marble with a silver head. What Jack sighted brought even more questions into his head. He couldn't help but notice that this man was more sluggish in his clothing somehow. Some sort of coat hung over a very thin blouse that had the words 'I got out of bed for this?' on it. His pants were very unusual. They weren't soft looking as the other man's pants were. His held more of a tough material. Almost like the leather out of a captain hat. But why would he want to wear material from a hat?

"It's obvious he's going through amnesia, Wilson."

"Amnesia?" Jack blurted loudly. Immediately brought out of his studies. The only woman in the room jumped mildly out of this. She kept looking back and forth towards each men till finally she decided to grab her table and walk out of the room very quietly unnoticed. The wheels squeaking high pitched. This growing unnoticed by the men. Jack on the other hand was trying not to look like he was being freaked out by that.

"Why claim such a thing?" Jack forwarded his brows when the woman had finally closed the door behind her. "Do you know who I am?" He angrily replied.

"Well," The more clean cut man started. "Who are you?" He asked. Jack tightened his jaw. Unsure of what he was about to say.

* * *

**THE PAST**

Fear reflected deeply into Harold's light blue eyes as he ran across one of the many bridges in South China's Seaport. Wondering about the safety for not only him but for his childhood friend, Captain Jack Sparrow. There also was raised questions on if the behalf of the Captain of the Empress Ship alone would agree with him on such an assignment. His intake was only worsening. For now a days, no outsider was ever seen walking through these roads without even a scratch or two. Already people were looking at him in pure distaste

It had precisely been 2 years since the code was sung forth to each pirate's ears. He was one of the many that did not sail that glorious day. He was marooned on an island. For the very same reason that lead him now walking through this once colorful village.

Turning a corner, he finally was facing the entrance to the bath houses. Not even 43 feet away did the guards hesitate to straighten up their staffs. To surpass self image guarding. He stopped far enough away from them. Finally giving them a request to their stern structure.

"Evening," Harold cleared his throat. Acting like he had done this all before. "I have come to see your leader." Pulling on one of his dreadlocks to hide his anxiety. "I was wondering if she would help me on a quest." Immediately the guards gave him an icy glare.

"Lord Turner does not speak to such random guests." The left guard specified.

"Oh no dear mate," Harold chuckled a breath. "We go way back," He winked. Trying to hide the glint in his eyes. Apparently both guards caught this lie. The response from the right guard was a deny shouted sternly in Chinese.

Harold could only looked at them in pure outrage. Its intensity twisting his facial feature in pure disgust. "Fine!" He mockingly spat. Pretending to leave by turning half way around. "Just so you know," He sniffed. "Tell her that Captain Jack Sparrow is alive! But anyhow, I understand they you do not wish to hear all the details. Goodbye!" He mockingly yelled over his shoulder. He peaked over his shoulder to catch a glimpse fast enough of the guards looking at each other in shock. The right guard immediately ran inside the bathhouse to tell her. While the left guard could only bow to Harold. Asking for him to stay in apology.

"_This is going to be better then I thought." _Harold smirked. All too pleased with himself at the sight of the guard bowing.

* * *

**THE PRESENT**

The pirate paled as he saw what scenery it was just outside the window. Since his skin was so tan, not one doctor noticed. "I can't tell you," Jack softly spoke.

Dr. Wilson looked onward baffled. "Can't tell us, what do you mean you can't…" He huffed. The impact of his halted words was an arm shoved into his chest. Wilson looked to see that Dr. House was responsible for this. Including the glare out of warning directed to himself.

"Wilson," Dr. House complied. Now looking at the patient. "Why don't you go outside for a moment?" The doctor demanded the brunette.

"Yes Wilson," Jack commented. "Why don't you just step outside for a moment?" He asked. Encouraging the man to do what both of them said by nodding with a strained smile and a swish of his hand towards the door.

Wilson glared back at Jack. His reply nicer response was directed to the Diagnosis. "But House," Was all that he could say before he was cut off by another glare.

"Fine," He stated frustratingly. Reaching for the door, he walked out into the hall as it began closing itself. With the hinges to the door aligned, Dr. House placed his full attention now back at the patient.

"So," Dr. House sighed. "Care to explain your secrecy?" He eyed Jack. Now walking closer to the bed.

"There is none carried for your concern," Jack coldly said. This caused Dr. House to stop in his track. Those eyes held a disturbing dark brown till suddenly a glint at the corner showed an emotion out of fear.

"What's the date?" He asked.

Dr. House forwarded his brows. Finding it odd that the man could forget such an event. "I told you 3 days ago," The Doctor replied. "July 13th, 2009. Saturday-"

"2009? Oh God…" The patient blurted. Rubbing his face in a state of stress. But all actions were cut short as instantly he went stiff. The patient squinted his eyes in anger at the doctor.

"My stuff, where is it?" He spat.

"Stay calm," Dr. House ordered. "It's all locked up somewhere safe."

"I don't care, I need them!" Jack gritted out. Almost begging for his life. Whatever the circumstances, especially in this world or where ever he was it did wire down to life or death.

"A few words are not going to change my mind, sir." Dr. House claimed.

"Why?" Jack questioned. Outrage flaming his brown eyes.

"Why? You were carrying illegal weapons!" Dr. House reasoned.

"It's never stopped me before," Jack said. Like it was the most obvious thing in the world coming from him. This only caused Dr. House to frown in hidden suspicion.

"Alright," He proclaimed. "If that is to be the case," Dr. House said. The tip of his cane was now touching the end of the bed's railing. "Why on earth is the year more of a shock to you other then the day of the month?"

"Honestly there isn't much too it, I am shocked about it for very personal reasons." Jack replied. This causing the doctor to sit up again and stand at the foot of the bed. "You can sit back down," Jack more of questioned then advised.

"I like to stand actually," Dr. House said. Clearly both were bound in an awkward silence before the doctor began to speak again. "You need to stop playing with me and start telling the truth."

"Less of course, you want me to stop and start, but I would rather start and never stop." Jack said. Trying to fiddle the man's senses.

Dr. House could only tilt his head in more of questioning of the man other then the joke. Apparently the man failed for it as he looked as if he was proud of himself for fooling someone like him.

"Do you have any idea how it works?" Dr. House questioned. More in trying to see what the answer was other then having importance to the entire thing.

"There are many things I know that work, though you might have to be a little more specific." Jack stated.

"Well let me see, the law, the code you could say. Of how a superior like me towards your status is." Dr. House explained. This only causing to have a questioning look draw upon the other man's face. "The United States," He pinpointed. "I am able to have you arrested if you don't start confessing, where did you get those weapons?"

With a long pause from the other man's raised voice. Both of them could only look at each other. Neither of which knowing who was threatening the other first. "A shop." The patient answered.

"What type of shop? Was it a little antique shop? I'm sure you stole it from a little old grandma." Dr. House mocked.

"She had no authority over it," Jack said. Catching Dr. House off guard. Knowing that sarcasm was never going to work with this man.

"Where did you get it?" He simply asked this time.

"A shop, I forgot the name. It was 31 years ago."

"You have used this sword as weaponry, haven't you?" This causing the patient to look at him like he was stupid.

"Well of course," Jack replied. "What else would it be used for? Cutting coconuts alone? Which I might add is very hard by the way." He said as he pointed a finger. With another long pause Dr. House eyed him.

"Let's start this again," Dr. House stated. Walking with his cane to the side of the bed. "What's your name?"

"My name?" Jack mimicked the question. His face growing flushed as he darted his eyes away from the doctors.

"We need to at least know your name so we can find your medical records," Dr. House eased. Knowing exactly why he looked away from him.

The patient's further response to what the doctor said was a deep frown creasing along the man's lips. " I can't tell you," Was the man's reply. This erupting a frustrated sigh to pass Dr. House's lips.

"Alright," He commented. Walking over with his cane towards the window, the doctor looked out the window.

"I certainly wish you would just say it. Would help both of us out here on the frustration at hand." Dr. House slightly hollered by the window. There was a long pause before another sound was erupted.

"Tell ye what mate," The patient began. "I tell thee me name, if you vow under the name of Calypso," This information causing Dr. House to slowly turn his attention back to the patient.

Dr. House hissed. "Sounds exciting," He said. Limping back over to sit at the edge of the bed again, this time a bit more closer to hear the name.

"Not finished mate," Jack exclaimed. Looking at the doctor in a forgiving manner. "If I tell thee me name, you must vow under the name of Calypso, the goddess of the seas. She is a very fierce woman, You must never treat her poorly, even with the mere thought of her." The patient smiled. Dr. House looking more curiously at the scruffier man as he saw the golden teeth.

"Why on earth would I vow to say your name under this sea goddess?" Dr. House forwarded his brows.

Causing the patient to smirk yet another of those oddly framed teeth. "Because under her name, with my name under hers, it is protected from being said allowed, savvy?"

Dr. House grimaced in confusion. "Are you insane? I could just say your name out loud if I wanted to, all day long." This only caused the patient to look at him in warning.

"No," He conferred. "Because you would never do that, I can sense it. It's just in your soul." Jack replied.

"Alright," Dr. House complied. Deciding to just go along with it as fast as possible. _"Anything for insanity," Gregory thought. _"I'm guessing you would want to write this down?"

"Savvy?" Jack exclaimed. Getting up from sitting on the bedside, Dr. House grabbed the clipboard he was suppose to look through for notes to the patient. But instead tore a piece of the notebook paper in one of Dr. Cuddy's notes.

"Write on the back of this, don't mind the front." Dr. House advised. Placing a clicked open pen in the other man's hand. As the small skin contact brushed each other, a jolt of electricity made them mildly jerk in small surprise. Both could only look at the other in confusion as Jack's hand just decided to write his name down without him. As the name was written, he scooted the paper back to the doctor in concern for if the jolt of electricity would happen again. Picking the small piece of paper up, the Diagnostic read the sloppy hand writing that read 'Captain Jack Sparrow'. _"Well, well, well, a Captain. A modern pirate no doubt. This guy defiantly must be land sick if he's here in the United States. Maybe he is telling the truth." Gregory guessed._

As he looked up he could see the man was trying to study him from the way he sat up in the bed. Raising an eyebrow, the doctor himself acknowledged his action. "On me own opinion mate," Jack stated. "You can call me by me last name, savvy?" Jack twitched.

House noticed the flinch, but decided to look into it later. "Alright Sparrow," He said in a sarcastic but greeted voice. "My name is Dr. Gregory House," Holding out his hand in a greeting manner, both hesitated on the hand shake. So Jack reached out to pat him on the sleeved forearm.

"Dr. House," Jack said. "Hmm, sounds odd to me tongue." He replied. Looking back the said man still sitting on the bedside.

"How? It's just a name." Dr. House defended himself.

"I mean usually people I meet have…" The other man trailed in mid sentence. Following a long pause. House's brows forwarded in a pure serious shift. "Are you okay?" The only question furthered more as he watched the patient's body begin to tense. "I-" He gasped. "I can't breathe!" He choked out. Jerking violently in the bed.

Terror filled tears began to seep from the patient's eyes. Immediately Dr. House got up from the bed. Walking as fast as he could without his cane and quickly pressed the emergency call button twice. With the small distance plated between himself and the patient, Dr. House tried to reach the bed. No sooner or later nurses and doctors alike came rushing into the room. Some even in the hall still towing on the doctors closest to them and the door.

Blood began spilling onto the bed, the stitches obviously being opened from the jerking and the friction on the bed. "Sit him up!" He yelled to the nurses closest to him. "Don't let him lie back down!" He proclaimed. Watching as the mysterious man's face scrunched up in agony in his struggle against his own body. Able to be in eye sight of the patient's, Dr. House stepped in to see the tears streaming down like a waterfall. "What's happening to me?" Jack begged for answer.

"That's why you're here so we can figure that out!" Dr. House complied loudly across the bustle in the small room. A nurse suddenly strapping an oxygen mask over the man's mouth. _"The amnesia!" Gregory's mind screamed. _"Stop, he doesn't know what that is!" Dr. House warned her. In a split second, he was unexpectedly tripped over a cord to the machines beeping wildly around them. Causing the cane in his hand to go flying towards a cabinet across the room, landing with a crack into the marble. Hitting the ground, he had almost hit his bad knee towards the tiled floor till he gripped onto the side post to the bed.

Throughout the chaos, with a grimaced face he got up to his feet with all his strength. Trying to regain his stance, he looked around the room as his eyes landed on the patient, it finally occurred to him. _"This man," His mind began. "He can't be from this world." He questioned. "Then just what world is he from?" His conscience asked._

"From the same," He answered out. Too quiet to be heard throughout the chaos. "But to a point in time is he ever the same." Dr. House said emotionless.

Finally taking control, time seemed to have slowed down as he gripped the hand of the patient's tightly. The electric shocks from before came back. Only this time were they almost as if flying out of control. Desperate, scared, angry, escaping. "Save me," Jack whispered. Enough to only be seen for the doctor to witness. As dark brown eyes met light ocean blue orbs both were in a place that was of safety and calmness. Sure there was obvious pain to both their sides, but it was so powerful it fogged it out from their stare. So much that the nurse from before that tried to place the oxygen mask over his mouth, succeeded into doing so without him even so having to know it was slipped on.

"_He's not the same," His mind stated. _"He's changing," The doctor whispered. Though as the patient's eyes began to grow unconscious, only the doctor himself heard the last thing said that made sense in that room.

**_To Be Continued..._**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I deeply apologize for the wait. I am also aware that there are many grammar and spelling mistakes in the first chapter. However, if I were to put my effort into fixing it I wouldn't be able to work on the chapters. Please keep in mind that rated M chapters arrive later. Chapter 2 I know is short. But think of it as a taste of Chapter 3. Plus, I want to give something so everyone is less stressed about this story being done. Enjoy the chapter. Thank you all for your patience.

* * *

**DISABLED CLOCKWORK**

**CHAPTER 2**

**2 DAYS LATER – THE PAST**

"So," Elizabeth paused. Her feet resting atop of her desk that sat between herself and her guest. "You have come to inform that Captain Jack Sparrow has been shot through time." She more of said than questioned.

"Yes," Harold confirmed.

"With your pocket watch, gifted to you by your father?" She asked.

"Yes," Harold repeated. With a twitch in his eye.

"While you want me to help bring him back safely?" She eyed him. Noticing the twitch.

"Yes," His breath hitched. Almost as if he was straining a laugh.

Elizabeth stared back in response to his suspicious behavior. It had been going on for a good half hour. The only thing the bloke seemed to have been blabbering on about was of his relationship with Jack. Some of it was there to be believed. Other times were not. It finally was hitting the pirate lord with frustration. She rested her feet back down onto the rug. Making the pirate jolt in front of her as she stood up and slammed the table with her leather gloved palms. "I don't believe you." She coldly exclaimed.

"My _dear_ Captain of the Empress Ship," He snickered. "What makes you deceive my _word_?" In mockery he placed his hand under his chin.

"The fact that you think you can just come in here by convincing my guards you know my friend is likely a evince of conspiracy!" Elizabeth blurted.

"You held this event off for_ 2 days_," He eased out in shock. "You can't still be mad at me for that!" Harold reasoned in disbelief.

"It's still implied!" The pirate lord snapped.

"So you deceive my presence?" The pirate snickered with a shake of his head and folding his arms across his chest. "My, my, the former governor's daughter doesn't like _bluffing._" He tutted in mockery.

Harold's eyes widened before he could even snicker when her face scrunched up with rage and grabbed him by his blouse's collar. Dragging him across thee entire desk while the chair he recently sat in fell to the ground on its back. Scrolls, souvenirs, maps, and other possessions scattered about on her desk went to the floor in a bustle.

"You listen to me." She icily gritted. "Do NOT _mention _ANYTHING about my_ father_, my _past_, OR my _guards_! Is that clear?"

"I!" Harold yelled in anger. Puzzled by the sudden change of events. "Just put me down!" He protested with a shout. Regretting his own request since she merely dropped him onto the desk. Bringing his face to rub against the polished wood in a bruising effect. Meanwhile the pirate lord fumed over towards the nearest window in her office. Harold groaned in pain and outrage as he glared darkly at the woman's back.

"I have no interests in this said quest of yours!" She barked out from the window in the middle of his insulted protests.

Harold looked up in surprise from the nursing of a soon to be bruised nose. "What!" Eying the pirate lord in bafflement. "But he is your friend!" He protested. "I-" He inhaled with a huff. "I don't understand."

Elizabeth eyed the man who stood next to her desk by looking over her shoulder. "Not within the same ship you sail." The pirate lord pinpointed. "Besides," She said. Turning her gaze back towards the window. "I have my husband's and Captain Barbossa's fellow crew to assist me more than the likes of you." Harold stared at the ground in response. Still trying to regain his composure from hitting her desk.

"_Keep it together old champ! You still need to convince her." _Harold's conscience encouraged._ "To convince her? Have you been paying any attention to what's been going on around here?" _His inner voice fired back._ "I am trying! She's just-Wait.."_

Looking back up, it finally occurred to him. "Ah," He awed. Making the silence known that it was interrupted. "I know what this is all about, yes." He confirmed. Grinning devilishly as he slowly walked towards her with a dark glint in his eye. The pirate lord could only stand her ground. "This anger here," Harold pinpointed. "Is not at all about your guards or Jack," The pirate claimed. "No, no. This is," He breathed. Folding his arms across his chest, looking up and down at the floor while still walking towards her. "This is from how you found out about Jack's _next quest_." The pirate mildly cheered with a snicker followed. "Oh this is just too_ good_!" He giggled.

"What are you implying?" She eyed the man in urgent defense.

"Oh you know what I'm talking about," Harold smiled widely. "_The Disciple Cochon._" He softly spoke. If possible his smile increased its size. "How he didn't tell you. _Nor _Captain Turner!...About it all." Now standing in front of her with unfolded arms. "You must be _so_ disappointed." The pirate said in fraud sadness.

Elizabeth broke their eye contact with forwarded brows. "There is no such thing," She stated. Denial of her own disbelief effected her vocal chords. Passing his shoulder, she walked over to her desk and sat back down.

"Oh," Harold cooed. Eying her from where he stood. "But there is," The pirate drawled out from his mildly lower voice. He stepped slowly back to the desk. Picking up the chair from off the floor and sitting down, looking at her from across the furniture. "You see, Elizabeth. There are-"

"Do not use my given name!" She barked. Fire rising in her eyes while his own swirled in surprise.

Instead of a smirk he tilted his head to strain it off. "I," He confirmed. "_Lord Turner!_" He exclaimed with a rather booming voice. "This so called pocket watch," The pirate continued. "Happens to be only one of the few keys in finding Disciple Clochon." From this said the pirate lord glared back at him from their loose trail of avoiding eye contact. "Now I assure you I have seen your lawful ways. But if you want to get your dear Captain Jack back, you might as well not want to see him with one of these." Harold warned. Standing up from his chair and turning his back towards the desk to live up his shirt.

There implanted from the middle of his neck to the lowest of his tailbone lied a pale and morphed scar. Looking to be his flesh was somehow ripped entirely opened of where it met with his regular tanned skin. After several seconds he allowed his shirt to fall back down with a few shakes of his body and turned back around to meet a puzzled captain. However evidence of such reaction was washed away by a stern glare when their eyes met once more.

"Jack has many scars," The pirate lord claimed. Only bringing Harold to frown from visible disappointment. "I am certain he will survive something like that."

"But Lord Turner," Harold protested. "This is only the beginning of its power. I grantee you there are far more threatening things. It is a life force that can not be won by even Jack himself."

A long pause stretched between the two. Elizabeth taking in his words even when she wanted to believe he was still lying. Before she could come up with a complete motive, something inside of her answered for her instead. "Go on,"

"I," The pirate inhaled. Realizing he was holding his breath for her response for quite some time. "Whoever withholds this pocket watch is not only risking their lives _but_ the lives of others." Harold explained. "Respectfully known as The Tige Masse." Her eyes grew more curious. Realizing the challenge of what lied between them.

"Thus the watch strictly stands with its own vows. However you look at it, whoever betrays it by even the thought of it will bring it to backfire and condemn everything into chaos. More importantly, the pocket watch will break itself if there is a setback. Therefore...Captain Jack Sparrow -could, disappear..." Harold trailed. Warning in his voice and appearance. Yet the same emotion was morally betrayed and replaced with greed in the center of his eyes.

* * *

**THE PRESENT**

There sitting at his desk was Dr. Gregory House who held a file in hand. Its contents were in view for him during the process of reading the first page with full concentration. After a few seconds the simple paper and ink lost his interests and brought a distasteful expression to form on his face. He decided to flop the file back onto his desk that was scattered with other numerous files, took a pause, and picked up another random file. Soon his mindless but beautiful silence was interrupted by the sharp knock at his office door.

"Who is it?" Dr. House hollered across the room. Knowing who it was so he allowed himself to have his eyes still locked on the contents of the file. Barley a pause was made before this said person opened the glass door and walked in. "You know," The diagnosis pinpointed. "I should get a lock for that some day." He grumbled.

"Oh really?" Dr. Cuddy asked in distaste during the process of her hands resting upon her hips while she stepped closer to his desk. "How is that going to settle things when I already have a key to your house?"

A failed attempt to push her buttons dropped down to its grave as a glare was planted in his eyes. "What do you want?" He frowned.

"I need to see the file of a patient of yours before I leave tonight." She informed with a fold of her arms.

"You're going to have to be a little more specific." He aimlessly requested his boss. Her response was a pointed manicured nail down at his desk. Angled directly at a file simply labeled 'Sky Patient'. The apparent frown on Dr. House's face deepened when he grudgingly handed her the file. She then opened the file and instantly scanned the contents.

"Kliene Levin Syndrome? That's your diagnosis?" She asked. Looking up to eye the man.

"His sleep has been a repeated pattern. There are certain hours of the day he awakes and others he does not which would not be a coincidence because if it wasn't the disease he would be waking up at random hours." Dr. House explained.

"But the coma has brought him in and out of consciousness at randomized days," Dr. Cuddy reasoned. "This disease only particulates if the patient has been going about it for weeks or even months."

"Well of course it's not entirely clear until we see how many times it acquires." The diagnosis replied. "Every time he has awoken," He sighed. "He has been showing signs of aggressive behavior and a dream-like state." Making an attempt to reach for the file back by stretching out his arm and making a pumped like gesture with his fingers.

Dr. Cuddy squinted her eyes in suspicion. She just didn't seem to be giving up. "What about the hyper sexual behavior? Have you seen signs of that yet?"

"It only occurs when the person is awake." Dr. House responded. "So far, no." Leaning over his desk he tried to grab the file once more by swiping his hand towards the object. Failing miserably she closed the file and swung it out of the man's reach. Receiving a glare from the Diagnosis, Dr. Cuddy could only frown.

"You need to get some rest." She said. "You have no reason to stay after working hours."

"Woman, there is no need! I am perfectly fine." He grumbled.

"I think you need to go home." Dr. Cuddy tried again.

"I think you're insane." Dr. House replied.

"House, it's been two days since he collapsed again! I'm positive he won't need you to aid him for another couple of days." She protested.

"What _you _don't understand is _it has _been two days since he collapsed again. We got-" Dr. House paused. _"Wait a second." _The diagnosis's mind sudden silence earning a confused stare from the other doctor._"Two days?" _He asked himself.

Finally a piece to this chaotic puzzle crawled up to the surface of his mind. Looking up at Dr. Cuddy and then back at the folder, he got up from out of his chair, grabbed his cane that hung at the edge of his desk, and began walking towards his office's door.

"Where are you going?" She asked appalled. Turning around to face his back.

With no reply the diagnosis retreated from his office leaving the door to shut with Dr. Cuddy still inside. Turning a hall after a hall, he finally found the direction of the captain's room. Barely time for himself came the other doctor to his side. Avoiding her he opened the door and was met with the sight of the man sleeping soundlessly.

"What are you doing?" She harshly whispered.

"Your bickering helped something click in my head." Dr. House whispered back. "Help me get him on his stomach." With a glare from his comment, Dr. Cuddy assisted him with his wishes. Standing on the other side of the bed while she stood on the other. Dr. House next mouthed numbers one to three. After three they lifted him ever so slowly as an effort to not wake him. A puff from his lungs showed this man was pretty heavy for him. Soon he was finally adjusted. The diagnosis gently gasped the end of his hospital gown and lifted it to end with the bunched up fabric over his shoulder blades.

Both of the doctors eyes widened at how big of the cut was. It looked as if a ginormous bug had landed onto the length of his back. With complete horror the scar was not alone. Parts of the flesh separate from the scar were splitting open. Making it seem as if it were polka dots except the size of an infant's fist.

"I was right." Dr. House quietly said.

"With what?" Dr. Cuddy replied back.

"There are four patches of unhealed flesh." Dr. House exampled by pointing to each one. "Two times he has fallen back into coma. Each one has only lasted two days." The diagnosis moved towards the captain's legs once he was done placing the gown back over the sleeping form.

"What now?" Dr. Cuddy whispered worriedly. With a hand resting on the calf, he began pressing down in examination.

"Hypontonia." Dr. House looked up.

"But that's a muscle diagnosis." Dr. Cuddy said.

"Not unless the patient has lost too much energy from the syndrome." He corrected.

"House, this is insane. Stop it before-" Right at the exact moment Dr. House outlined his finger on a font tattoo the captain had on his right wrist, Dr. Cuddy's words were cut short by the change of events. A deadly grip on his wrist was accompanied with the other patient's hand. Managing to have the doctor flipped and swapped in position with him. The strength and mayhem of it all caused Dr. House to land onto the bed with a surprised, short scream. By the time his head had stopped spinning the captain was above him in anger and grogginess.

"What do ye think you're doin' there, mate?" He warningly drawled.

"Get off of him!" Dr. Cuddy demanded in anger. Earning a dark glint in those midnight eyes that squinted in fury and suspicion. The captain titled his head and pointed his finger towards the door. Silently ordering her to leave. But to no avail.

"Out! Now!" Jack ordered.

"Cuddy!" Dr. House warned. Caught between a dangerous situation, her expression of pure shock only showed to the captain she was discomforted and afraid.

"I won't hurt him." He said. The tone in his voice to what he said was different from what they have heard from him. Clearly he showed to them that he would not go back on his word. So with a surprise she persistently exited the room. "Close the door on ye way out." After the request was met the captain looked back down to the fussing doctor underneath him. Those ocean blue eyes holding a stressed tone.

"Were you just touching me?" Jack unexpectedly asked. Full of confusion and calm stride. No curiosity was unseen. Nor was anger shown. It all appeared to have melted away as if it was all an act. Either way all of these said emotions only surprised and confused the living day lights out of the disabled doctor.

"I was medically examining your muscles." Dr. House honesty said. Grunting from the sudden shift of weight from the man above him.

"Oh." Jack trailed. His face dropping to only a confused expression. "What for?" He forwarded his brows.

Dr. House sighed in frustration as he was still not freed. _Thanks a lot, Cuddy._ "A muscle disease I suspect you might have." He informed.

"Do you usually inspect _patients_, like that?" Jack asked.

"Usually yes. I'm a Doctor. It's what I do. Now if you don't mind, can you let go of me, please?" Dr. House politely requested. Trying to slip underneath the patient's weight. Realizing that it was a bad decision too late since gravity depraved them both. They came tumbling to the ground with the sheets falling atop of them in the process.

Landing on top of the doctor only made the man more upset. Fury and pure shame flamed within his eyes. "DAMN YOU, CAPTAIN JA-" Dr. House tried to shout. Suddenly his words were muffled by the captain's lips landing on his own. Those midnight eyes widening in heightened fear.

Pure shock stiffened them both. Everything becoming more mortifying since Jack found his right hand had landed on the doctor's normal knee while his left was on the right side of his chest. He was also bending over the doctor with each knee at his waist. Legs spread out underneath, Dr. House had his arms spread out above his head from the fall. All the while the sensation on their lips against each others was motionless but at the same time giving chills down both of their spines. A small smacked sound followed once Jack found a moment to separate the kiss. Strong apologetic and almost unfocused eyes looked at Dr. House. Knowing he had changed something between them. The next thing he knew he was pushed to the side and rolling onto the cold tiled floor. More of embarrassment and fright was why Dr. House did such a thing. If he had locked his eyes with the captain he would have seen the hurt in those dark eyes.

"My apologizes, mate." Jack uttered out. Trying to act as if nothing that damaging happened. Hearing a frustrated growl with the man's back in front of him said otherwise. Dr. House then turned around on the ground with a furious scrunched up face.

"Don't you ever do that again!" Dr. House spat with a maddened glare.

"Well you threatened me!" The captain shot back with his own intensity of voice.

"How did I threaten you? You threatened me! That's assault is what you did!" The doctor exclaimed in a appalling tone.

"You were about to break the vow!" Jack replied in a shout.

"What vow? You weren't actually serious about that, were you?" Dr. House asked in anger. Locking a stare with those dark eyes to realize the captain was indeed never joking. The distress and anger was evident to the man's entire appearance. His body was raking him in sudden shakes. To his horror, it was not just emotions to what caused such a distorted situation.

From before he had no time to pay attention to where his cane went once he had dropped on the ground when Jack got him on the bed. Realization was clear to where it now was. The captain had rolled on top of it when he pushed him off. The wounds so sensitive to the touch, blood had begun to pour from the fire red wounds. The captain's eyes started to role in the back of his head. The entire impact of the shakes so harsh it caused his body to lie flat on the floor.

The doctor was drawn back into reality with a flash. He crawled as fast as he could with his arms and one leg over to red call button on the wall where the head of the bed was. There he got it pressed down by slamming one of the rolling trays into the wall. Afterwords it fell to the ground onto its side. Bringing the tools to scatter out onto the floor. But he didn't have time to care where all of them scattered once he crawled back over to Jack, shrugged off his suit, turned him onto his stomach and pressed onto the wounds to pressurize them.

Dr. House's eyes soon widened when the blood began to grow darker. Suddenly the captain grabbed his forearm. He looked down at Jack to see his eyes were not in the back of his head but crying with blood. The patient who he was growing more attached to him had the most thickest emotions he had ever seen swirling in those eyes. But none of which he could identify because there was just not enough time to say for certain.

"Say nothing. Save me." Jack breathed in whisper before falling unconscious right at the exact time graveyard shift nurses and doctors came running into the room once more.

* * *

**2 WEEKS LATER – THE PAST**

Standing upon the seashore were both Harold and Elizabeth. Awaiting for the sunset that was just minutes away from ending.

"Were you actually serious about this?" Harold dared to ask. Turning his head to the side to look at the captain with her eyes trained in the distance and her arms folded behind her back.

"I never lie for something this sacred." Elizabeth commented. Causing them both to share a silence during the same time Harold looked back towards the ocean.

"Though I still don't believe you. For really Lord Turner, it ceases to amaze me." The pirate said. Forwarding his brows in disagreement to the memory of their last conversation.

"Prepare for damnation of being corrected, Harold." The pirate lord could only warn. Trying to hold in her disagreements with this pirate scum.

"I welcome it being obliged, Lord Turner." He commented. Unaware of what was yet to come when there was a pierce of colorful light that shot through the Pacific. There in the distance stood the Flying Dutchman. Harold could not believe his eyes.

"I warn you, Harold. My husband has had a resettlement with Calypso." Elizabeth exclaimed.

"The sea Goddess? What exactly do you mean?" The pirate asked in surprise. Still amazed at what he had just seen on the horizon.

"Captain Turner...He is not himself." She stated. Walking out into the seashore towards the rowboat that awaited for them before Harold looked into the sunset and smirked evilly.

_To Be Continued...Soon!_


End file.
